


Jokes Don't Land and No One Sees Me

by GlitterFairy_21225



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Gay Disaster Richie Tozier, Gay Richie Tozier, Gen, Morally Ambiguous Wentworth Tozier, Protective Parents, Protective Wentworth Tozier, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Sad, Sad Gay Richie Tozier, Sad Richie Tozier, hurt/some comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterFairy_21225/pseuds/GlitterFairy_21225
Summary: After a horrible day at the arcade, Richie runs home in tears. He tries not to let his parents see, but a loving father won't let him cry on his own. Turns out his dear old dad knows more than most people when it comes to his son.Advice is given. Whether or not Richie was better off for it is debatable.Title from Beetlejuice. Different context though.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier & Wentworth Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Comments: 15
Kudos: 90





	1. Is it Being Greedy to Need Somebody to See Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for uncensored F-slur. In another fic, I had that censored out, but that had a much bigger audience, plus they were all watching a scene, so it seemed less jarring to censor it. I've read a story where it was censored in the actual text, and felt so jarring, so this won't do that.

Richie runs home with tears in his eyes. He covers his face to hide his distress as he enters his kitchen, but doesn't bother responding to his mother's joking question, immediately rushing to his room.

Richie buries his head in his pillow, hoping whoever it is (Dad, who else would it be?) will take the hint and leave. But instead he hears the paddings of feet, the door closing and locking, and then he feels a weight on the other side of the bed.

"This is the second time you've come home crying this month, kid." Wentworth murmurs soothingly, treading his fingers through Richie's hair.

"I know." Richie says, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," He says softly. "I'm just worried. Tell me what happened."

Richie finally lifts his head to look at his dad, then turns around fully to lay on his back. His father looks down at him softly.

He sighs. "I made friends with this boy at the Aladdin. All I did was ask him to play another fucking round and he accused me of flirting with him."

Dad's hand pauses. "Were you?"

"Dad!" Richie turns his head around to glare at him, his face heating up. 

"Sorry." He resumes his menstruations on his hair. 

"His psycho cousin was there and he called me a 'faggot'." Richie finishes shortly. He never told his parents about the Bowers gang. Yeah he was a loser, but didn't want to be the loser who was also a snitch and make it worse for himself.

"He what?" Dad's says, his voice suddenly dark and his eyes flashing with anger.

Richie gasps, immediately latching on to the worst case scenario. "It's not really like that, Dad! He's just a dick, I wasn't really flirting! You know I'm-"

"Richie." Dad interrupts, and he immediately goes quieter than he ever has in his life. If this alarms his father, the only way of knowing is a raised eyebrow. "It's not your fault." He says firmly.

"Right." Richie nods. Of course his dad wouldn't think like that. No one would. He's made sure of that. "The only reason I'm so sad is cause he's the first friend I've made that wasn't a Loser." 

Dad shrugs, Richie can tell he's still pissed but cares more about something else right now. "You're thirteen, you'll make new friends."

"I like the ones I had!" Richie snaps in protest, the thought of actually replacing them angering him. He loved the Losers Club. He can live without Conner, fuck, he's already feeling pissed with that dude, but those guys are his best friends. "Dad, I've known Stan since diapers!"

"I know!" Dad says, trying to calm him down. "I just..." He thinks hard about his next words. "I just hate seeing you so sad."

Richie frowns. He's not supposed to be the sad one. He's the one who makes people laugh and roll their eyes. And now he's worrying his father. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" Dad repeats. 

"I'm just fucking depressed cause Bill has a death wish and Eddie is in jail with Mrs. K." Richie frowns. God, he misses Eddie so much. "It's so unfair. She's acting like I'm a danger to him or something."

"Well life is dangerous." Dad says, and Richie has to admit that he has a point after what happened with Neibolt. "But she's not doing him any favors coddling him like that."

"You think?" Richie asks, brow furrowed. Mrs. K grates on his nerves, but he understands the need to protect Eddie. 

"Yes." Dad says, his eyes drift to his hands. He looks deep in thought. "If she treats him like he's breakable, he'll break easily. He's not gonna go far if she keeps up like she does."

"Harsh." Richie mutters. He can't disagree with any remark against Sonia Kaspbrak, but he's always hoped Eddie would break free from her influence one day. Maybe one day they'd move to California together, or New York, or any city, even if Eddie thinks he's stupid for wanting to be a comedian, Richie could convince him and they can- 

"Richie." Dad says to grab his attention, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you hate this little town, but at the end of the day, Derry is not special."

"Um..." Richie winces, remembering the day that broke his friendships with the other Losers. Remembering psychotic clowns and missing posters. "It- it's a little special."

"Richie," Dad sighs, ignoring him. But he's used to it. "There are a million towns, filled with people who believe real life is a white man and a white woman getting married before thirty, having two or three babies, paying taxes, and then dying."

"And if I don't want that to be my life?" Richie asks, his chest feeling tight. 

"Then a lot of people will think you're weird." Dad says, looking sorrowful as he does. "And they probably don't like weird. But honestly, you'll be better off."

"Really?" Richie asks unsurely. Every teacher who's ever read any one of his stupid 'This is Me' full out paper that he has to do on the first day of school always either scoff or say he'll change his minds.

"Richie..." Dad sighs, looking hesitant for a moment, but then looks like he's mentally steeling himself. "Fatherhood is hard. Love in general is hard, but it is so much harder when it's your kid. You'll do things, things that kill you, so long as it helps them in some way. You'll give things up if it gives them something. You'll make a fool out of yourself if it makes them smile. You'll make them suffer if they'll be better off, and you'll hate yourself but you'll do it anyway so long as they'll be okay. The less people you feel that for the better."

"What?" Richie whispers.

"The more of yourself you show to another person, the more they can hurt you with." Dad tells him. Richie's eyes widen. 

"Dad-"

"I'm not saying- shit." Dad brings a hand up to his forehead. "Look I'm not saying you shouldn't have friends, or make jokes, or have fun. Just maybe let it end with that." 

"That doesn't make sense." Richie crosses his arms, feeling like his heart is beating out of his chest. 

"Just... You can have fun. Have all the fun in the world, but sometimes the more personal things are better off being kept to yourself." Dad explains with heavy eyes. "Somethings you don't tell anyone. And you stay safe. Somethings, happy things, you show the world. You show your friends. And even if they don't always love you, you stay safe."

Fuck. Fuck, Dad looks like he's about to start crying. Richie never meant for this to happen, but he needs to ask what he does next. Even if he hates the answer. "And the other things?"

"... You can always talk to me." Dad offers, eyes brimming with unshed. "And as for when you can't talk to me... Keep them to yourself." 

"And if I ever make up with my friends?" Richie asks, holding back from crying himself.

"Then laugh, and smile, and deal with your problems yourself." Dad tells him. "Because in the long run, people will come and go, but you can always count yourself."

Richie bites his lip. He thinks about what it would be like to tell his friends that he had a crush on a boy. Telling Eddie he had a crush on him. Maybe they'll be okay, he can't imagine them being cruel or saying any of the shit Bowers did. But it's still Richie being vulnerable, making himself an open target. Even a target with people he trusts is still a target. 

"My friends think I'm stupid for wanting to be a big comedian in some big city." Richie confides to both himself and his dad, finally allowing himself to feel hurt by their casual dismissal of his dreams. "And it hurt. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Of course not." Dad says instantly.

"Do you think I should go through with it?" Richie asks, because without words he knows what his father thinks he should do with his other lifestyle issue. "Do you think I can make it in Hollywood or whatever?"

Dad's face is hard to read for a brief moment, but then he starts smiling, but Richie can recognize a fake when he sees one. "If you're smart about it."

"Oh." Richie nods slightly. "Okay then."

Dad takes his face in his hands, lifting it so they're making eye contact. "I only want what's best for you kiddo."

Richie takes a deep breath, and does his best to smile, and for once it doesn't matter how shaky it is. If the person seeing it knows it's bull. "That's what Mrs. K said when she had me tied by the wrists last night!"

He doesn't know how he expects Dad to respond, but regardless, Dad looks like Richie's physically pained him. Sighing deeply, Dad presses a kiss to his forehead, then shifts around so that he's laying fully on the bed, pulling Richie with him. Richie rests his head against his father's shoulder. They're both fully clothed, and it's only the afternoon, but Richie feels himself drifting in and out of consciousness. 

The next time he fully wakes up, Richie stares at his sleeping father. He loves his parents, and he knows they love him. That being said he never really confided anything deep or personal with them. Not at all because he thought he couldn't trust them, just because they weren't that kind of family. They made jokes and let their kid curse. All this emotional shit isn't the Tozier way. 

He never thought about how lonely he felt. Not talking about the emotional shit.

How long has Dad figured him out? Probably awhile now, Dad's been more and more protective. Actually giving a shit about his bed times, always asking awkward questions about homework and crap. Richie always thought it was because of Georgie and all the other kids, but maybe Dad's sudden interest in him was another beast entirely.

Truth be told, Richie doubts his parents were ready for a kid when they had him. They always had a lot of fun, but they weren't like other parents. And Richie always felt grateful. God knows all his friends were jealous. Fuck, most of his friends either have dead parents or shitty parents, or dead parents and shitty parents. Richie wasn't in the position to complain.

But now his dad listens. And Richie hates to admit but he likes that Dad listens. That he cares enough about all this parent-child shit. And him.

He knew about Richie before this. He knew when Richie was sprouting out lies about fucking women. His dad looked at him and didn't take him for his jokes and his lies. He saw Richie's secret, and as terrifying as that is; His dad saw him, and Richie's glad he saw him. And he wants his dad to keep seeing him.

All of this feels so fucking unfair. He wishes these perfect lovey dovey straight couples in public would go fuck themselves. Richie's thirteen, why does he have to deal with this bullshit? He shouldn't have to deal with the possibility of Bowers or any asshole like him hurting him, but it sucks that he has to be a mastermind liar to the people he cares about.

Richie loves his friends. So fucking much. Even now as he refuses to even speak to their leader until Bill gives him an apology. God he loves them. That day they met Mike and they named themselves the Losers Club was one of the best days of his life. 

But maybe Dad's right. Fuck, if today with Bowers and all that shit with It is any indicator, the world sucks and Richie is fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. Because the world is cruel and no one cares about him, except his dad clearly. But for the most part it's either scoffs or damnation.

Just give up, go through the motions of endless sex jokes. Richie's already been lying to them, he can lie some more. Because now jokes don't land and no one sees him. 

No one else will notice cause he's just keeping on doing what he's doing. If he keeps pretending that nothing in the world bothers him and he's just a quirky charming weirdo who enjoys fucking girls, no one will notice. Not his mom, not the Losers Club, not a single person in Derry.

No one will fucking notice. The only person who would already does, and he's the one telling him not to tell anyone. And if they won't notice him, maybe Dad has a point. And if Dad has a point then shit.

The stakes are high. High enough that they could fall and crush him. But despite all that he made his dad acknowledge his goddamn existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tagged Wentworth as morally ambiguous, but does anyone have better phrasing? Because he clearly loves Richie, and you can see where he's coming from. But still, some of the things he said... I'm not sure morally ambiguous is the right wording.


	2. I'm Tired of Trying to Iron Out my Creases, I'm a Bunch of Broken Pieces

Maybe nothing would have changed if Richie and his dad never had that conversation. After all, he lives in Derry. Which really isn't the place to be out and proud about anything that makes you stand out, but especially your sexuality. That is; Unless you're a white dude specifically only into white girls.

Still, the words spoken to him that day never leave his mind even as he and his friends make up and they all defeat It. Years pass and before he knows it they're high school students, his friends are now all into girls, and Richie has never felt more invisible in his life.

He's not really a liar. Okay, he lies about being interested in women, but even then watching his friends squirm in discomfort is kind of amusing- not enough to really justify him doing it as much he does, but he's got a lot to lose, and it's a silver lining. 

But besides that Richie doesn't really lie, just so much as he doesn't share about his life and issues as much as his friends do. To be fair Richie's got it pretty good in comparison, but if he ever feels hurt by a nasty comment or even if he's coming down with something, he deals with it by himself. And at the end of the day, that's all he needs. And if he ever has to deal with something similar in forty years and they're not there, he'll still have himself and he'll know how to deal with it. 

It's for the best.

_richie tozier sucks flamer cock_

Sharpie covers the words, hiding them like a blanket. Richie looks at the black line silently, his face solemn, a rare moment of seriousness. He just stares at it for a second. It's gone now. Except it's not, and the blanket is still wet. If Richie wipes it away the words would still be there, but still surrounded by the remains of the sharpie, and so Richie would just have to wipe harder and faster if he wants to see those words again. But he doesn't.

He packs the sharpie in his backpack.

High school is like an ocean, even in a small town, so even when the loud kid wants to be invisible he can be. At no older than fifteen, Richie's let his hair grow out, got a lot taller, and yeah, maybe he's going through a tiny punk phase if the black of his wardrobe is anything to go by, a far departure from the Hawaiian shirts of his middle school days.

He walks down the hall, eventually passing Bill and Eddie by their lockers, but Richie decides not to stop.

"If we wanna complete it, we're gonna have to do it quickly." Eddie says to Bill, most likely talking about a project they're working on together.

"That's what your mom was saying while I had her bent over your kitchen table last night, Eds." He snarks once he's closest to them, winking in Eddie's direction.

"Don't call me that, asshole." Eddie immediately snaps at him. Richie keeps walking.

He passes a corner, and stops at a closet door. Richie checks to make sure there are no teachers walking before fishing out the key he absolutely stole. Just as the bell rings, Richie sneaks into the closet, immediately closing it behind him and locking it. Laughing victoriously, Richie takes out the weed from his pocket and turns around to face the closet. Then and only then does Richie realize he's not alone in the closet.

"Xander?" Richie says, looking down at the boy his age curled in a ball on the ground with red-rimmed eyes. "You okay... champ?"

Xander sniffles, rubbing at his nose and eyes. "Uh- yeah... I just- it's nothing. I just- it's stupid."

Richie hesitates for a moment, but still takes a small step closer. "Uh- well, I'm pretty well-acquainted with stupid, so..."

Xander cracks a smile, but it sours easily. "Yeah... it's the end of the semester and my grades are in the trash can. My parents are gonna kill me."

"If it's any consolation, my parents have been threatening to kill me since I learned how to talk, it's basically an empty threat." Richie offers. Xander smiles again.

"Well my parents have been planning which Ivy League school would be best for me since diapers." He shakes his head, and Richie rolls his eyes. Parents. ".... Is that drugs?"

Richie blinks in surprise. "Uh... Yeah. Weed." He says awkwardly. No one else knows about his little habit besides his dealer. He sees a flicker in Xander's eyes. "Oh! Is... is that a good idea?"

Xander scoots over, gestures for him to sit down, and looks at Richie expectantly. Kind of in shock, Richie complies, sitting with him.

Xander takes the weed from him and Richie pulls out the lighter. He intends to light it for him but Xander snatches it from him and does it himself.

"You've done this before?" Richie asks in surprise.

"Never at school, but I need it." Xander takes a puff. He looks over at Richie, and after a beat he holds out the joint, silently offering to Richie. He takes without a second thought. Xander smiles at him, and repeats the pattern, Xander, then Richie.

It takes Richie a moment to realize that Xander is staring at him. "What?" He asks, smiling a little.

Xander doesn't answer, and instead pulls away the joint from Richie's face and kisses him. Richie freezes in surprise, but then leans back. He stares at Xander for a moment, at a loss for words for once in his life. But after a second he leans back in and kisses him back.

The moment is ruined though, because they're too far gone to realize that the lock is moving until it's almost too late, but at the last second Richie rushes to pull away, Xander's face trying to follow after his lips.

"The fuck is this?!" The janitor demands. "A couple fairies trying to get it on!?"

"It wasn't me!" Xander immediately cries, he turns to Richie accusingly, startling him. "This faggot basically kidnapped me and tried to get me to bone him! It wasn't me fault!"

Richie's eyes widen, and in a second his emotions go from shock to fear to hurt to anger in a manner of seconds. "That's not what happened." He whispers.

"He's lying!" Xander screams. "This pervert is trying to rape me!"

Richie squares his shoulders, letting the anger wash over him. "N-no I didn't! You were the one who kissed me."

"Bullshit."

"I saw what you were doing, fairy. You were going after him." The janitor spits. "You're disgusting." He turns to Richie. "You disgusting too, boy?"

Richie shakes his head.

The janitor looks at the joint still in Xander's hand. Xander stammers. "It's his!"

"He pressure you to do this shit? Then he try other things?" Richie opens his mouth, but no words come out.

"No!" Xander yells, he looks at Richie desperately. He wants help. But he was gonna throw Richie under the bench. He wouldn't have helped, would he? Xander's already caught, there's nothing Richie can do about that.

"Oh, you're both fags, huh?"

Richie shakes his nod. "No.... I- I thought we were just hanging out. I didn't want him to kiss me."

Maybe he's a liar.

"I didn't want him to kiss me." Richie repeats, this time in the principal's office, surrounding by the janitor, the principal, two sets of quarreling parents, and the boy he was just sticking his tongue down.

"This is absurd!" Xander's mother shrieks. "My baby would never! This is all just some set up by that delinquent! Those drugs were clearly not my Xander's!"

"You do not call my son a delinquent!" Mom screams back, riled up by the other women. 

There's screaming all around him. Arguments about grades and model students and other stuff that shouldn't pertain to homosexuality but apparently does. But all Richie can focus on is how devastated his father looks during all this. Sad eyes boring into him, and Richie can't stop it.

Finally, the other people quiet down and Dad opens his mouth. "For your boy's sake, you better shut up about my son before this whole thing becomes public knowledge." 

He's bluffing. Of course Dad would never do anything to tell the public that Richie is in any way associated with this kind of thing, but they don't know that. Dad keeps his cards close to his chest, and he's better off for it. 

The other parents finally cede and Richie goes home, quieter than he's been since that day at the Aladdin. The entire ride home Mom rants about how bitchy Xander's parents are as he stares out the window.

"I'm sorry." Richie whispers when it's just the two of him in his room again.

"No... I'm sorry you had to hear that man use that word." Dad says stiffly. "And I'm sorry that you live in this town... So I'm gonna talk to your mom about moving."

"What?" Richie gasps at the thought about leaving his friends behind.

"Look, my company offered me a promotion, it would require moving to a whole new state. I wasn't gonna take it because I thought uprooting you in the middle of the school year was a bad idea, but after today-"

"Dad, you can't!" Richie begs in desperation. "It'll never happen again, I swear!"

"One time was enough!" Dad snaps. "Secrets don't stay secrets in this town. Even if they think you were the victim, the fact that you were in that position is enough to get you crucified."

"My friends-" Richie tries weakly. 

"People move away everyday, Richie." Dad says, looking almost exasperated but trying not to be. "There will be new friends."

Dad turns to leave, and Richie desperately tries one last time to call out. "But-" But they won't be the ones he has here.

He comes back to school the next day, avoiding the eyes of not just the janitor and principal, but any administrator for fears that they told anybody else. Secrets spread like wildfire in a town like Derry, even though Dad seemed adamant about making sure this stayed under wraps.

"Where have you been?" Stan asks when Richie approaches them for the first time in days with the brightest smile he can manage. "We tried going to your house but your mom said you were grounded. What for?

"Got caught skipping class to pleasure Mrs. K. What can I say? She brings the rebel out in me." Richie shrugs as they all groan and beep him. 

Half tell them the truth, half bullshit them all, and no one asks follow up questions.

The Losers Club is none the wiser about what happened that Friday, and Richie does his best to keep it that way. A part of him hopes that Dad's assertion this is gonna end up being public knowledge is just his old man being paranoid and an even bigger part hopes that there won't be any consequences to what happened. That his dad will forget about it, and Richie won't have to leave, and everything will just resume and nothing will change.

Richie will laugh and smile, and this world he's grown into will stay the same because even if it constantly feels like he can't breathe, he's safe in it. Safe in a world where he has to hide, and smiles don't feel right, and no one fucking sees him, but safe nontheless.

But then the 'For Sale' sign goes up, and Richie keeps laughing and smiling. Okay, this isn't so bad. He can call, and visit, and whatever. And if he feels like crying when he finally has to tell his friends he's moving, they don't have to know. He doesn't even know what he's losing by not crying in front of them, he just knows he can't cry. So Richie jokes about how hot girls will be there, jokes until they stop being sad and are just too annoyed to be in his presence anymore.

It occurs to him that being a happy nuisance is somehow better then being a sad nuisance. At least when you're happy the other person doesn't think they're leaving you in your own pathetic weaknesses. So in a way, Richie wins? 

One day Eddie comes over to help him pack. "Not like you're ever gonna get it done yourself."

"Aw, Spaghetti." He pouts mockingly, because he knows how much he's gonna miss Eddie, and just joke joke joke. "How am I supposed to work when your mom's taking up all my time before I leave? Gotta save up for all the time we'll lose, my love."

"Oh my god, shut up." Eddie groans. Richie ignores this, just like he ignores every urge to do something, anything, to show Eddie how he really feels. 

Instead he just lays into it. "Yeah no, it's just depressing because as much as I love her, we both know how straining long distance is-"

"Seriously, fuck you."

"And I mean, California babes, am I right? How can I resist?!" Richie finishes, trying to ignore the voice reminding him, always reminding him, of his dirty little secret. 

"So, I'm guessing you won't miss any of us when you're living it up in California." Eddie says coldly, but his lip trembles. He's upset, really fucking upset. Richie can see it bright as day and remembers what his father said about Eddie that one August day. 

Richie looks at him like he's crazy. "Of course I am." Eddie scoffs, his eyes looking suspiciously glossy. "Eds-"

"Don't call me that, Richie." And then he turns and runs out the door, ignoring Richie's calls after him. 

How could Eddie think Richie wasn't terrified of leaving him? Of losing touch like Bev did? 

But then he realizes that he would have no way knowing.


	3. One Little Word to Know I'm Not Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning on changing the chapter titles to Beetlejuice lyrics, because that soundtrack fucking slaps, but it's midnight so I'll do it in the morning, kay?

For more than two decades, Richie fails to remember a single detail about the first fifteen years of his life, and yet doesn't question why this is. Vaguely, he remembers having strong feelings for one or two or six people, but he always finds himself distracted before he can think any more about it. 

He doesn't remember the talk he had with his father, but the message sinks in. It's almost second nature that he follows the advice he doesn't remember receiving. Richie barely even realizes that he does it. That he does what he can to avoid any actual relationships. 

He holds the world at an arm's length, rising in fame as someone everyone is sure is actually the real Richie Tozier, all except for himself and his father. Only Richie can truly know the things that go on in his head, and he likes it that way. It's safer this way.

Years pass and Richie lies his ass off, but he never lets himself repress the truth to himself, because if he did he might actually go insane. So if he sneaks into the back of a not-so straight bar with bad lighting and got the attention of a wasted patron once in awhile, he keeps sober enough to make sure no one sees and recognizes him.

And so by the time he's in his forties, Richie's stuck in a limbo of secretive hookups and not really having a meaningful relationship with anyone, be it romantically or friend-wise. No one ever knows his dirty little secret, besides his dad, and soon enough-

And then he gets a call. 

He rejects it thirteen times, because it would be just like his mom to sneak attack him using someone else's number, but she seems unusually persistent and so he grows a pair knowing that fucking Steve is gonna get all up on his business in a minutes time, so he'll have an excuse.

The giant blank space that is the first fifteen years of his life comes back slowly, piece by piece. But it's there and it's coming back. 

Eddie.

Oh fuck.

Richie goes back to his hometown, reunites with people he loved as a kid, and abruptly remembers that he and those friends were once attacked by a magic clown. He tries to leave, but even if his first priority should probably be himself, seeing these guys again after all this time gets him soft inside, and he somehow finds himself suckered into staying and probably dying.

Just like Stan... Thankfully he drove to the inn alone. No one needs to see if he cried or anything. Or if he chucked his phone at the passengers window. The same could not be said for their next journey.

It's a long walk to their old clubhouse, and along the way they really have no choice but to make conversation. His phone is vibrating in his pocket, and he discretely turns it off before tuning in to what Bev is saying.

"I mean, I can't believe I only had that one summer with you guys." Bev shakes her head. "I mean- you guys were the first friends I ever had. I just have to wonder what you guys thought when I didn't call or write."

"It s-sucked." Bill admits. "I mean, obviously we kn-know now, but b-back then..."

"We couldn't understand it." Ben says solemnly. 

"I'm sorry." Bev says softly.

"Don't be." Eddie insists. "It's not your fault. Besides, we figured there was something going on before everyone else."

"You did?" Bev asks. Richie blinks. They did? Not when Richie moved away... Unless-

"Yeah, I remember now. Ben moved away senior year. When he didn't call everyone sorta realized something was going on."

Oh.

"Wow!" Richie says sarcastically. "Nice to I was missed. Oh well, who needs ya!" They roll their eyes.

Anyways, they go back to their childhood clubhouse, split up for their tokens (which is a stupid idea, but Richie can't exactly complain given everything), Richie murders someone but it's no big loss, and they all venture into the abandoned well house on Neibolt street. Again.

By the end of it Richie is thrown into those deadlights and forced to watch the person he- he has a history of strong emotions pertaining to being a preteen horndog with die. But that's just in the deadlights, he pushes Eddie away. Eddie lives. Unlike Stan. Unlike- So it's fine. He saved the day, and makes sure Eddie knows it. He's so fucking okay now that the deadlights universe is out of the way. 

And that's why he's on his third drink.

Oh well, he's got the tolerance of a depressed closet case in his forties. Richie's alone, but what's new. At least he thinks he's alone when he hears someone clear his throat. He glances up and sees Mike standing by the doorway.

"The others are upstairs." Richie tells him. "Probably doing it. All of them. In an orgy. And they didn't fucking invite us... Unless that's why you're here?"

Mike rolls his eyes, but still smiles. "Actually, I wanted to thank you. For saving me from Bowers."

Richie gives him a genuine smile. "No problem, man." 

"I really thought that was it, Rich." Mike says sincerely. Fuck, Mike really could have died if Richie wasn't there. He would have died if wasn't for an entirely other person. And Richie would have died if it wasn't for Bill and Ben with Stan's head, and Eddie with the deadlights. He was vulnerable. 

"I'm never going to be able to understand how you did that." Richie murmurs while nursing his drink.

Mike nods. "Yeah, I can't believe It's really dead." 

"Not that." Richie looks up from his drink. "You spent decades working on a plan that relies on people you wouldn't, and didn't, see for decades."

"We took an oath." Mike reminds him.

"I know." He turns his body away from the bar. "But I mean, we were kids. Not a lot of people would be willing to risk their lives over something that happened so long ago."

"It's you guys." Mike says simply. "You were the only friends I had in a town that treated me like trash. So I knew, even after all this time, that at your cores you'd all be the same people I knew back then."

"But what if we weren't?" Richie asks. He's not crazy, this is a fair question, isn't it?

"I don't know." Mike admits. "I did have doubts. But then I'd always remember the trust we had in one another, and I'd know you wouldn't let me down."

"I wish I could believe in people that way." Richie blurts out, surprising himself. Where did that come from? No, he doesn't. He doesn't need... people. He just needs himself. Just him. Friends aren't for needing, and maybe dads are but even then, soon enough it's just you. It's always just you.

"I'm sorry you don't." Mike says softly, putting a hand on his forearm comfortingly. "I know it must be odd, reuniting after so long, and with the memory loss. But just know that if you ever need a helping hand, we will all be there for you. Like you were there for me."

But it doesn't matter if Richie's there for the others when things get bad, that's a given. What matters is if they'll do the same for him, and it's fine if they don't. He's a big boy, he doesn't need it, except for when he's attacked but that's just lucky, but he'll also help if anyone else needs it. 

Helping Richie not die is a world different than Richie's other shit. But...

It's fucking Mike, Richie will be fine.

At least that's what he tells himself as he shrugs off Mike's arm and pulls out his phone. All his missed calls are either from his mom, his manager, or his publicist. All except for one.

He types out the words, **I'm gay** , and clicks send before he can think himself out of it.

Mike apparently figured Richie was done with him when he looked at his phone, because he looks really fucking surprised when he gets the text and Richie looks expectantly to him.

"Oh." Mike says in shock.

It feels good. It feels weirdly good. He is scared, and a little nauseous, but it feels good. Like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. And it's just one fucking person. 

And then Mike is moving to hug him, and yeah... Maybe Richie could get used to telling people things that don't make them want to punch him.

At least that's what he tells himself an hour later as he stares blankly at his phone, not moving to make a call but seriously considers it. He wonders what his dad would say if Richie told him what Mike said. Probably that he's wrong, but he guesses he'll never know.

Shit, he tries to push away those thoughts before gets teary eyed in the town in bar, where anyone could walk in at any moment to get wasted. 

Speak of the devil, Eddie comes down the stairs and walks up to him.

"Hey, spaghetti. You going back to your blushing bride?" Richie snorts, pushing away any fleeting fears of _Eddie dead, Eddie with a fucking claw through his chest, Eddie staring at him blankly, Eddie being left behind-_

"Yeah, and I'm gonna divorce her." Eddie answers and Richie feels shock course through his body. "And I have you to thank."

Richie almost lets himself tell a joke, it wouldn't be hard, would practically be second nature, but instead Richie just says. "What?"

"What you said. About being brave. I- no one's ever believed in me the way you do, Rich. No one. You... You have inspired me to make leaps and bounds in my life that I never thought I was capable of." Eddie says so sincerely that Richie wants to cry. "You helped me be brave in a way I never thought I could. Thank you."

He holds out a hand for Richie to shake. Richie hesitates, but takes it. And then Eddie pulls him into a quick hug that leaves him breathless, but Eddie pulls back quickly and turns to leave, mentioning something about packing and preparations and-

"Wait, I love you." 

Oh fuck.

Eddie turns around, confused. "What?" 

Richie swallows, but refuses to back down. "I mean, I did. When we were kids. And teens. That summer. Every summer after that. Maybe even now, I don't know. Actually, that's a lie because I saw you die. In those deadlights. So yeah... No more lies, I probably still do." He forces himself to stare deep into Eddie's unsure eyes. "And I know after all that teasing you won't believe me, but I think I've been running away and I should probably stop."

"Richie, if this is a joke, it's not funny." Eddie whispers, looking almost guarded.

"It's not." Richie assures. "I don't cope well when things get bad. I don't do well with hurt. I don't let people know when I'm hurting. I never have. And I have made it literal decades, an Emmy, and an a-list celebrity status so far, and I have utterly alone the entire time. Can you believe how far your best friend came? But this is the wrong damn way."

Eddie doesn't respond, gaping at him as he seems to process what he's saying, so Richie just continues.

He sighs, pushing himself off of the bar, shoulder straight and summoning as much courage as possible. "I like men, a lot. I like you, a lot. Or love. Yeah, love. And I really wanted to say that when we were kids. But I was scared. Not of you, don't worry, just... It was never something that was going to be easy. Or happy, or... funny. And I always thought that everything that wasn't one of those things was my business and if I made it someone else's I'd end up more hurt one way or another. Maybe not in the moment, but I figured... Everyone leaves eventually."

"Richie..." Eddie murmurs sadly. He opens his mouth but no words come out, as though looking for the right words but not being able to find them.

Richie steps forward, looking him right in the eyes. "I was really fucking sad when I left Derry. And scared. And I think I threw up out of nerves. And even if I forgot, I missed you so fucking much."

And then, though still scared shitless, moves to wrap Eddie in a hug. Eddie doesn't shove him away, but he's stiff under his hold, and doesn't move to hug back. Richie pulls away, smiling at him. 

"Thank you, Eds." 

And after taking one last moment to look at the stunned Eddie, who's still speechless, Richie walks away, feeling like he might faint but for the first time in his life he actually feels truly seen for what he is, and that's terrifying but he thinks that the person he's been so ashamed of, that he's hidden for so long, might actually be worth being proud of.

Richie returns to his room, but instead of packing or running into his bathroom to vomit, he pulls out his phone. His mother taught him how to be petty, but thankfully she does the opposite of what Richie has done to her and picks up right away. "Richie?"

"Hey, mom." He whispers into the phone. "I-I know I've been a terrible son and I must've made the past month so much harder than it had to be, and I'm so sorry. I always tried to deal with pain- _grief_ , on my own and just call when we're both better. But I've been going crazy, and the only moments I feel alright are after I'm actually being honest."

It's hard because he hasn't been. He hasn't been honest. Hiding is his nature. Hide his sexuality. Hide his fears. Hide his grief.

"And... And I always talked to-" he takes a breath, tears falling freely down his face. "-to Dad about things that... that I normally felt scared to talk about." And even then it was only when Dad wanted to listen to him, but he supposes that's how it is.

"So... So I guess I should- I'm trying. I'm trying to put out more of myself- and what I'm feeling... and stuff. I'm in Maine right now, long story, and... can I talk to you some more? Please?"

The other line is silent for a moment, and Richie gives her time so he can catch his breath and wipe away his tears, trying to pull himself back together.

Finally, she responds. "I'd like that, honey. I-I'd really like that...." And then she lets out a little sob. "You're really hurting, aren't you?"

Another year escapes him. "Yeah... I think I've been hurting for awhile, actually. Even before... before Dad... you know." God, he didn't even tell his bosses, he just continued touring when he was... when his dad was...

"I'm sorry you thought you had to do that on your own." Mom says softly. "I really want to see you again."

"I'll be there soon, Mom." Richie promises. "But first I gotta talk to some- some old friends. I have more than a few things I've been keeping from them, and I need to fix that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know it didn't end with Reddie, but if we're being honest I wasn't doing them justice anyways, and this was always intended to be more about Richie then Richie and Eddie. I guess I should have rewarded Richie's honesty with more than just relief, but also I kinda like it as it is... Richie needs to learn how to communicate first, and he's on the way. :)


End file.
